


Falling, Binding

by TalonOfA



Category: Dreaming of Sunshine - Silver Queen/A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Crossover - Fusion, Dimension Travel, Gen, Gods & Temples & Religions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:08:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29231304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalonOfA/pseuds/TalonOfA
Summary: ASOIAF / DoS Fusion in which "falling into the black" means "being summoned by a shadowbinder".
Comments: 12
Kudos: 115
Collections: Dreaming of Sunshine Exchange 2020 C (Winter Round!), Heliocentrism — a Dreaming of Sunshine recursive collection





	Falling, Binding

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jacksgreyson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksgreyson/gifts).



> This should hopefully be shown in the text, but for those of you who've forgotten the plot of one side of the fusion, this takes place during A Clash of Kings (Davos' second chapter, in which Melisandre sends a shadow-baby to murder someone so that Stannis can retake Storm's End without storming the walls) and right after chapter 129 of Dreaming of Sunshine (the Jashin chapter).

A Nara whose spirit is vulnerable may lose pieces of themselves. Part who they are and how they think is lost, sometimes forever. Those who recover say that they “fell into the black” - but their memories suffer and they cannot quite put their recollection into words.  
There is no real explanation for this phenomenon, no real knowledge of how to avoid it. The Nara have theories, of course, but only the Asshai'i truly know. The Asshai'i - and those who have learned their secrets.

#### DAVOS

The cave seemed to shake with the sound of Melisandre’s scream. Davos stumbled back, catching himself on the portcullis leading up into besieged Storm’s End. His breath caught in his throat. A shadow stood before him, wriggling and growing as it stood upright. For a moment it was over six feet tall. The King’s face glared at him, anger turning to shock a heartbeat later. The shadow shrank, twisting in ways that would have shattered bones on a living man. It almost seemed to be having a fit.

In an instant, it settled into the shape of a blood-covered girl. It was short, armed, and had the strange features he had only ever seen on merchants from beyond the straits of Qarth. Gone was its monstrous appearance. If he had not seen its unholy creation, Davos would never have suspected the creature was the result of sorcery. Was this the magic of the Faceless Men?

 _Gods,_ he felt himself whisper. He had been a smuggler and a knight. Was he know a murderer?

It stood there, dead-eyed, seemingly looking at something he could not see. Davos clutched at his oar, suddenly fearful that it would capsize the small boat. Drowning in this darkness, in this hidden place where he had once earned his knighthood would be a cruel jest - or perhaps a fitting punishment for his role in this.

Still the thing remained motionless. Melisandre had stopped panting, and in the silence the sound of waves lapping his hull was somehow ominous. He heard her wrap her robe shut. The tension grew too much to bear, and he spoke to the Red Priestess who had worked this magic.

"Shall I row us out?" His voice was hoarse, jarring against her sudden laugh. Despite her previous screaming, she sounded calmer and happier than he had ever heard her.

"Wait," she said. Her eyes seemed to burn a little brighter, and she spoke to the creature. "Ser Cortnay sleeps in the keep above."

At that, the creature shook. Its grief and pain seemed so genuine that Davos couldn't help but pity it, despite knowing what it really was. And then it spoke, somehow suddenly more real than it had been before, a newfound weight almost unbalancing their small boat.

"I have had enough of killing for one night. I can feel him, feel you twisting my spirit. Stop."

For the first time, Davos saw Melisandre truly shocked. Yet when she replied she seemed gleeful.

“I heard your call in my prayers. My blood rang with it, and the very flame shook. You flung your whole being into the void! Without my sacrifice and the Red God's Flame you would be bound to Asshai-by-the-Shadow among mere shades and figments!" Her tone suddenly outraged, she continued. "And now you refuse me?”

In an instant, the creature _moved_. Davos raised his oar, but it wasn't attacking. It let its disguise fall away, becoming an almost formless shadow flitting across the water. It grew long squid-like limbs and touched the walls as it moved unsteadily across the cave. It was a struggle not to retch. He lost sight of it in the darkness, but the Red Priestess seemed to follow it unerringly. She simply smiled as she watched the shadow vanish, fleeing towards the sea.

"All this for that?" He said, his voice odd. It could have been fear, or relief, or anger.

"Shadows stem from the light which cast them. It cannot leave, and will soon return."

He remembered what she had said before. _“There are spells woven into the stones. Dark walls that no shadow can pass - ancient, forgotten, yet still in place.”_ He shivered.

They sat there for several long minutes, feeling the chill of their sea-soaked clothing settle in. Finally, the creature returned.

It looked human again, but walked upside-down upon the ceiling. In its hand lay a sword made of light. Its arm shook, as if too tired to properly raise it. Yet it cut through the stone beneath it as if through butter, and Davos knew what it must be.

"Lightbringer!". He knew not if he was shocked or relieved to see that it truly existed.

Melisandre said nothing. At her throat the great ruby shone, glinting more than it should in the dark cave.

"Let me out. Let me home." The creature sounded eerily like the King. Exhausted, yet somehow unbending. But why bother make elaborate threats when you have a sorcerous sword and your opponent has only an oar and a dagger?

But Melisandre stood. "The shadow serves the light which casts it, and all light is the Light of R'hllor."

The shadow hesitated. It recoiled as she began to sing in the strange tongue of the Asshai'i, the tongue of shadowbinders. These were not the prayers she had translated at the nightfires. This was something else, something old, something that seemed to tug at hidden parts of the soul.

Davos felt more than saw his shadow boil. It somehow stretched upwards. Its texture was wet and slimy across his soaked jerkin, yet also burning with a strange heat. The creature froze, falling from the ceiling. A desperate shove of his oar prevented them from overbalancing, and only blind luck let him catch the sword before it cut through the hull.

Well, he hoped it was blind luck. He knew not the source of the Red Woman's blood-stained magics, but he wanted no part in it.

The strange chant rose to a crescendo. He knew not the words, but the tone said it all. She sounded triumphant as her rythm changed. A strange light seeped out of her closed fist, and the creature snarled.

 _Pressure_. A rising fear washing over him. A cold, dispassionate expanse crushing his spirit. Melisandre's chant slowed, struggling through each syllable. Her left hand scrabbled at his shoulder, desperately gesturing for something.

The sword! She wanted the sword! He-

The pressure stopped. The creature suddenly seemed catatonic. Melisandre's chant changed again, now using words he knew from her sermons. There was Common Tongue in there, the dogma of the Faith of R'hllor. _Lord of Light, protect us. All men are Your slaves..._ There was a bonfire in her hand, and blood dripped from her palm. The shadows danced as her hand-fire moved, and the creature lay limply before them.

They made eye contact.

Grief, pain, acceptance. It looked like a child - a suffering child, such as he'd seen only once before. In this very keep, in fact, when it was starved for months by a cruel Lord. He had earned his knighthood by saving those children, and now he was to use it to torment another?

He handed the sword to the girl before him.

The girl smiled. It was a steel smile, as sharp-edged as it was thankful. Melisandre's chant continued, seeming almost desperate now. The girl spoke to her as she slowly raised her sword.

“Your problem,” she whispered. “Is that you think the greatest power of all lies in blood.”

She wept upon the blade.

The weapon suddenly grew, impossibly large. The crackling fire devoured _something_ Davos could feel only by its absence, and the chant ended. The dancing, binding shadows vanished in a burst of impossibly bright light. The wall shattered, pierced by this strange lightning. And by the time they shook the blindness from their eyes, the girl had disappeared too.

There would be no murder tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> PoV character chosen entirely to avoid the squick factor of having to describe Melisandre giving birth to a shadow-baby while somehow screaming in ecstasy. You're welcome.
> 
> I might write a second chapter of this if anyone is interested in the plot repercussions of this mess and on where Shikako will go.


End file.
